Privilege
by jibber59
Summary: The lap of luxury isn't always as comfortable as it appears.


_Thanks to Marilyn Jimmieson who posted a picture of a train parlor car about 6 months ago. This idea has been percolating ever since._

Ezra could not believe the good fortune that had smiled on him. This was the way he was meant to travel. Beyond a first-class accommodation, a private train car. Luxury brought to the highest level. Granted, his traveling companions would not be ones he would have selected if given his choice. Politicians could be so pompous. So very full of themselves. And the sycophants that tended to make up the entourage were beyond annoying. Fortunately, it was a fairly short list of companions, with only two the Governor's aides and all of the spouses travelling on this portion of the trip. Still, there would be money at the card table, fine food and good brandy. All in all, not a bad way to earn a few days wages.

He felt a moment of regret that the remainder of the team would be relegated to the less comfortable sections of the train. Chris and Vin would be close by, just one car ahead. Nathan was riding in the caboose, watching the rear of the train for any uninvited guests. Josiah was stationed in the baggage car, ready to launch his own surprise attack should there be any attempt on the train. JD's stature made him the ideal candidate to ride with the engineer, taking up the least space of any of the team. Poor Buck had drawn the short straw, remaining behind in Four Corners, left out of the protective detail Judge Travis had sent them on.

Memories of the nation's recent tragic assassination were still fresh enough in everyone's mind that a threat against a presidential candidate was taken seriously. Ezra had his doubts that there would be an attack against this particular challenger. The pompous twit was not really a serious contender, given his southern standing during the war and his bombastic declarations since then. He was, at best, a buffoon. Yes, the man had money, and a certain celebrity status. But he had no vision, no ideals and most significantly, no principles. Not that such concerns were ever likely to prevent anyone from getting elected. Money could be a deciding factor, as most people who didn't have it assumed those who did possessed a level of intelligence and responsibility. Ezra had learned during his previous career that all it took to be rich was the willingness to do whatever was needed to get what one wanted.

Reluctantly, he brought his attention back to the moment, listening as introductions were made by the Judge.

"Chris Larabee is one of the best gunmen you are ever likely to encounter. He and the others have saved my life on occasion, and I have no doubt they will all be fully at your service. Mr. Sanchez, Mr. Dunne, Mr. Tanner, Mr. Jackson," he pointed to each man as they were named, and each nodded a greeting, "will be place throughout the train for your protection." He turned to introduce Ezra. "And this is Mr. Standish. I believe you requested he join you in your car." The judge had been more than a little surprised by the request. He'd provided a brief biography of each man, including a highlighting of the skills each had to offer. Needless to say, he had avoided any reference to Ezra's somewhat checkered past, but hadn't exactly promoted the gambler as a preferred travel companion.

For Governor Donaldson though, the choice had been quite easy. He preferred to spend as little time with northerners as possible, especially during his private time. The only true southerner in the group, as he scarcely considered Texas to qualify, would be Mr. Standish. Yes, there was that other southerner, but the thought of Jackson riding with him was more than laughable. Seeing the men waiting outside, his decision was confirmed. They were the most ragtag looking group of supposed lawmen he had ever seen. Standish had been the only one with any sense of decorum or presentation there. Even Judge Travis looked underdressed in his presence. Yes, Standish would make for a most interesting and appropriate travelling companion.

"Welcome aboard Mr. Standish." The Governor nodded, but made no move forward. Ezra knew better than to expect a friendlier greeting, knowing where he stood in this man's hierarchy. "I am given to understand you are a Son of the South?"

"Predominately from Atlanta, but familiar with many of the fine cities therein, yes Sir."

"Have you been home recently? Excellent job of rebuilding the State. The region. Plantations are starting to come back to life in a significant way. The South will regain its stature and power, of that I have no doubt." Good Lord, the man couldn't help but make speeches, even in the worst of circumstances, Ezra thought. He didn't need to turn around to be able to envision the look that would be on Nathan Jackson's face right now, and hoped it would go unnoticed. The smirk he saw flash across the politician's face, as well as that of some of the others in the group told him they knew they had struck a chord.

"Yes, the assistance coming from the government and the influx of Northern investment have been of invaluable assistance in helping with the slow but inevitable recovery." The Governor hesitated for the briefest of moments, not entirely certain what Ezra was implying in that. Still, he was of the south, and therefore must be in agreement.

"Very well. I believe the train is scheduled to be on its way any minute now."

The judge nodded. "These men will be riding with you for the next two days. At that point, there will be Federal agents meeting up with the train to take over for them."

The team gathered together briefly to finalize there plans.

"You gonna be okay riding with that idiot Ezra?" Vin asked. Ezra was looking at Nathan, who still was radiating anger.

"I have dealt with much worse in my lifetime Mr. Tanner. I do regret that his speech, attitude and manners are what represents the South in the minds of most people now."

Nathan let out a slow breath. "He's only saying what a lot of folk still think. It'll be a long time coming before most people get past that way of seeing things." Ezra turned away to leave, and Nathan saw the flash of embarrassment on his face. He reached out and gently grabbed at his arm. "Good to know some people are too smart to believe in it any more." He smiled, but Ezra did not immediately respond. After a moment, he did speak softly.

"It is to my shame that it took me so long to come around."

"It's to your credit that you did though." Josiah answered for all of them. Ezra gave a tentative smile, that didn't come close to convincing any of them. He turned and headed toward the private car.

"Damn." Chris let his anger surface. "That bastard is gonna mess with Ezra's head for the next couple of days."

"You don't think he's gonna make any real impact, do you Chris?"

There was no answer to Vin's question for a moment. "Yeah, I think Ezra knows better than to buy into what he's saying. But the style, the money. All of that is the kind of thing he looked for his whole life. Having it handed to him like this, that's a temptation that's gonna be hard for him to move past."

"He has fought that devil before." Josiah reminded them.

"Devil lost because Stutz tied to kill Mary. Without that, we can't say for sure what Ezra would have done." Nathan observed.

Reluctantly, Chris agreed. "Nothing we can do about the situation now. Josiah, you get the horses on board?"

"Horses, and everything else we need, all on board. Already looking forward to the ride back home when this is over.

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"Honestly," Mrs. Donaldson said with exasperation. "This is the best they could offer for protection? Don't get me wrong Mr. Standish. You obviously are cut from a different cloth than those men."

"Yes, there's no doubt of that. But I can assure you, they will risk their lives to save your husband if the need arises."

"I can only presume the judge knew what he was doing when he selected those men. But really! That one fellow never seems to have heard of a barber."

"Yes dear," the Governor agreed. "And that Larabee fellow. Does he even know how to smile? Doesn't he know first impressions are everything?"

His manager and chief advisor, Anders, shook his head sadly. "What I can't believe, is that he sent a coloured man along. Doesn't Travis realize you have an image to maintain?"

"As I said gentlemen, judging a book by its cover is not that the best course of action in these circumstances." Ezra realized little was to be gained by arguing with closed minds.

"I simply do not understand how you can be associated with them." Mrs. Anders shuddered at the notion

"I have to agree with you on that." Colson, the Governor's financial aide shook his head in disgust.

"As you are well aware my good woman," Ezra said, using his finest Southern gentleman tones as he spoke to Mrs. Anders, "there are times in everyone's life when they are forced to associate with people that do not measure up to their standard. I believe it was best stated by the concept 'politics makes strange bedfellows'."

Ezra was greatly relieved when the conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the young steward with coffee. He moved to settle away from the others, and was both surprised and surprisingly disappointed when a place was made for him at the table. He plastered on a smile and rejoined the others.

"So, Standish, what do you think my chances would be of winning an election?"

" _About the same as they are of my being nominated for sainthood!_ " Ezra thought. "I firmly believe one should never try to predict the will of the people, as it has always appeared they are constantly willing to confound the experts." He hoped the non-committal reply would satisfy the man, but was not that lucky.

"Come now, you must have a thought on the matter. Clearly, I would have the full support of the south, and I don't doubt for a moment that even most northern idiots will have figured out by now that Lincoln was a fool. Doubt they expected so many darkies would be moving up north and taking things over the way they have."

Ezra fought to keep the shocked look off his face.

"Taking over? I am afraid I have been away from the Northeast for some time. My last understanding of the matter was that most of those who have ventured north are struggling for survival every bit as much as the freed men who remained in the south are. Granted, they may not be facing as many lynch mobs, but they have not exactly been welcomed with open arms."

"Those aren't lynch mobs – merely southern landowners protecting their property and their women-folk." Ezra stared in disbelief at the Governor's manager. This was the man acting as his chief advisor and speech writer? That explained so much!

"My point exactly Standish. The Northerners are no happier about the outcome of the war than we were. And by the time I finish with my campaign, there won't be a man up there who doesn't fear for his job, his safety and his future if anyone but me gets elected."

" _Ah, the bullshit approach to campaigning. Well, you are undoubtedly going to be an expert."_ Ezra once again hoped his thoughts were not reflected on his face. He was going to have to spend the next 48 hours protecting these people, and he was going to have to find a way to avoid wanting to kill them himself.

"Gentlemen. You will have enough of politics and debating in your future to fill your time. Might I suggest you try to relax for the moment. Could I interest anyone in a friendly game of cards?"

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Chris closed the door of the private car, making his way across the small connecting platform before re-entering the passenger car he and Vin were riding in. He strode through quickly, nodding at the sharpshooter to join him as he continued his trek. "Go get JD from the front. We'll meet up in the baggage car." Vin said nothing, concerned by the tone and look Chris was using. A few moments later the five men were together. Nathan had moved up to baggage car at the last whistle-stop, to provide Josiah with a bit of human contact for a couple of hours.

"Everything OK Chris?" he asked, seeing the concern. They were halfway through the trip, and there hadn't been so much as a hint of trouble. They had all doubted the need for this excursion, but none wanted to dismiss the judge's concerns without good reason. Chris was now wishing he'd tried to do so.

"No threat if that's what you mean. Just came from checking out our 'host'. He seemed more than a little annoyed by the interruption."

"Bet you Ezra's going crazy trapped in there with him." Vin grinned.

"Not hardly. He has a stack of poker chips in front of him, cigar in hand and brandy on the table. Don't think I've ever seen him looking more in his element. He's cleaning the three of them out of their savings."

The others looked at him in surprise. "He's have a good time?" Nathan questioned.

"No, I'd say he's having a great time. Kinda what I was afraid of."

"Chris, you can't think he's really fitting in back there."

"Why not?" Nathan answered with a touch of sadness to his voice. "They are his people after all."

"Were his people you mean." JD challenged.

"Don't get me wrong kid. I'd like to think Ezra isn't part of that world any more. But you can't always deny your roots. He grew up in a place and time where that way of thinking, of acting, was normal. Ain't all that hard to slip back."

"Especially when you add in the money, comfort and all the trappings. Let's face it – that car back there represents everything Ezra spent most of his life looking for. And there it all is for the taking."

"Doesn't mean he's going to take it though." Vin replied.

"Doesn't mean he won't." Josiah said almost to himself.

"Look," Chris cautioned, "he may be doing nothing more than trying to make the best of the situation. He's damned good at that. But I thought you all should know what was going on back there."

"You think he's staying sober and focused enough to help if there is an attack of some kind." Nathan wondered.

"Absolutely. Pretty sure he is letting the others do most of the drinking. He had a couple of bottles sitting in his travel bag. Likely won them, and saving them for later. He's sober as a judge at the moment."

"Usually is when he's playing. One of the many reasons he wins so much more than he loses." Josiah allowed himself a small grin.

JD wasn't smiling at all. "Got the feeling we may be the ones losing this time around."

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The game continued for most of the afternoon. They'd had been playing off and on almost the entire time. Ezra made sure to lose a few hands along the way, although it had been a challenge to do so. He had rarely encountered worse players in his life. Their 'tells' were so obvious that at first, he had believed he was being played. But as the game wore on he quickly concluded they were not cunning. They were inept. And as the conversation wore on, he added the conclusion that the ineptitude carried over to most aspects of their lives. How this man ever got elected to anything was beyond his understanding. Clearly money and influence had played a major role. Taking some of that money from him was a gratifying experience.

Inevitably, the conversation worked its way back to his comrades.

"I still cannot get over the foolishness of that young man. You say he is from the east?"

"Yes Mrs. Colson. Mr. Dunne was raised in Boston. He was raised in one of the wealthier communities there."

"Surely you cannot believe such a tale. He has no bearing. No stature of wealth. And that ridiculous hat. Clearly a second-hand item, at the very least." Ezra chose not to respond to Mrs. Donaldson's outraged tone.

"You do keep interesting company Ezra." The Governor chuckled. "Must be quite entertaining at times."

"They all have unique character to them." Ezra agreed, doubting very much that his comment was interpreted as intended.

"I'll say." Anders laughed. "That big guy – Sanchez? Where in hell did he come from?"

"I must say, while I disapprove of the language, I believe your assessment might be accurate." Mrs. Donaldson spoke again. "He appears to be a demon sent from Satan."

"His size and bearing are often misconstrued as more malevolent than the reality of his manner indicates."

"Nonsense. The man is an unholy Godforsaken terror." Governor Donaldson shivered dramatically at the claim, then burst into laughter.

Any further discussion, and the need for Ezra to respond, was cut off by the screeching of brakes as the train lurched. Ezra leapt to his feet, fighting to maintain his balance as the train skidded into a stop.

"Get on the ground in the corner!" he shouted.

Anders opened his mouth to challenge the order, but changed his mind as he watched his boss scurry to obey, hiding himself as much as was possible. Ezra pushed the ladies to the floor beside the cowering figure. Anders and Colson were quick to follow. No one offered even a suggestion of a notion that they might assist. Ezra quickly tossed the table and chairs in front of them. It wasn't much protection, but is was the best he could offer at the moment. He ran to the door, staying low as he opened it and pointed his gun in the direction of the first shots he heard.

Chris and Vin had likewise ordered the passengers in their car to the ground and were aiming their guns out the windows, one on each side of the train, while scanning for signs of the threat. Vin spotted the riders first, coming in with guns blazing. He shook his head slightly at the idiocy of the open attack, as he fired his first shot, dropping the lead rider from his horse. Another shot came from the train just a second later, and Vin glanced to see the red sleeve of Ezra's coat sticking out from between the cars, a wisp of smoke rising from the barrel. More shots could be heard from both the front and rear of the train. A few bullets hit the cars, and a soft gasp was heard from a passenger who was covering his wife's body with his own. Chris quickly determined these fools hadn't been smart enough to plan an attack from both sides, and shifted his attention to action on the other side of the train.

While it seemed like eternity to those huddled on the ground, the gunfight had lasted barely a minute. Chris and Vin cautiously raised their heads again to look out when all seemed silent. A shouted question from further ahead on the train served to notify them that Josiah was alright, and the response from the engine assured them JD too had emerged safely. Nathan approached on foot from the rear, asking if anyone had been hurt. He rushed to the aid of the injured passenger, quickly able to determine that, while a painful wound, it was unlikely to cause any problems.

Ezra dashed back into the private car once he knew his colleagues were safe. He looked at the huddled mass under the tables and moved toward them. He stopped sharply as the smell of blood caught him. Looking around frantically, he changed directions, but stopped his advance after only a few steps. He stared down sadly to the end of the car, at the body of the steward who just a few moments early had been serving them brandy and coffee. A bullet had entered his head, and the young man was likely dead before he'd hit the ground. Ezra removed his coat, draping it gently over the body after reaching down to close his eyes.

"Standish – that you? Get me up from here. What is all this crap on us?"

"That, Governor, was the best I could offer to help keep you safe."

"Are we?" Mrs. Donaldson was shaking. "Are we safe?"

"Yes ma'am. The attack is over. I believe all of those who wished you harm have been stopped. I do not know how many others were hurt in the attack." Or worse, he added to himself, glancing back at the steward. He had never even bothered to learn the young man's name.

The Governor followed the glance, and wrinkled his face at the sight. "Damn." Ezra was surprised that the man cared enough to react. He wished he'd been equally surprised by the next words. "Get someone in here to clean that up."

Ezra clenched his jaw and left the car. He approached Nathan a moment later. "Anybody else hurt?"

"Else? Someone hurt in your car?" He stood to offer aid, until Ezra held up a hand. "Don't bother. He's beyond anyone's help. We should remove him from the car though." He didn't mention that it was only out of respect for the victim that he was making the suggestion.

"The Governor?" Chris asked.

"No, he is uninjured. The victim is the young steward."

"David?" Vin asked, a sad look coming to his face. "Damn shame. Nice kid." Of course, Vin would know his name. Likely knew his life story too, by this point. "I'll move him. We'll have to make sure his family gets told."

"Tell them he helped save a life today." Chris looked at Ezra, puzzled by the comment, but Ezra didn't answer. It wouldn't do to tell him that had David not provided timely interruptions with beverages, Ezra might well have shot some of his charges himself.

He smiled in relief to see JD and Josiah approaching. "Track has a bunch of trees and crap piled on it. Once we get it clear, we should be able to move on." Chris was startled to see Ezra step forward to join them in the task. Physical labour was hardly high on the man's priorities.

"No Ezra, stay with the Governor. I doubt anything else will happen, but there may still be a few of these idiots out there."

Ezra tapped his fingers to his forehead in salute, and headed back. He passed Vin, soberly carrying the body to a more appropriate resting spot. Without speaking, he returned to his post.

"That ruffian got rid of the body." Donaldson spoke as soon as Ezra entered. "Still need someone to clean up. Get the steward in here, will you?"

"That was the steward." Ezra replied sharply. "His name was David." Yes, he felt a bit hypocritical accusing the Governor of not knowing that, but he couldn't really stop himself. "You might want to consider preparing a letter to his family."

"What on earth for?"

Anders interrupted. "Actually, that's not a bad idea. We can send a copy of it to the media. Condolences to the family of the young man who bravely entered the fray to save the life of a man he respected and admired. Died to ensure that such a man would someday lead this country. Great idea Standish. You have a real flare for this." Ezra stared for a moment, then turned away and took a seat next to the small bar in the corner, pouring himself a large glass of whatever his hand first landed on.

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Chris tapped lightly on the private train car door before opening it. As he expected, Ezra was standing in the middle of the room.

"We'll be taking our leave now Governor. The federal services are here take over the protection duty. They're boarding up front now, so we'll be heading out. Ezra, you ready?"

"I've just finished offering your Mr. Standish a position in my team. I believe he will make an excellent addition to my operation."

Chris did his best to keep his face neutral. JD had been right; they were going to lose Ezra. Not that he could blame the man. Looking around the private car, Chris realized again how much Ezra was in his element. The style, the money, the prestige. All things Ezra had sought his entire life. "Can't say as I'm glad to hear that, but not really shocked either. Ezra deserves a chance to have the good life." He took a couple of steps forward, reaching a hand out to bid Ezra farewell with far more reluctance that he would have imagined.

"You might want to wait a moment on that, Mr. Larabee. I have not yet given Governor Donaldson his reply." He turned back to face the others.

"You stated earlier that I appeared to be out of place with these men. You could not have been more correct. You see, those men are so much more than I could ever aspire to. No Governor, Mr. Larabee does not smile and glad hand every individual he meets. Nor does he prejudge them. He makes his determination on fact, not fantasy. And, unlike the people you elect to surround yourself with, he does not defer to anyone based solely on wealth, power or position. So, when he does smile at you, greet you warmly, show his friendship by reaching a hand out to you, it is because you have earned it. And it is a very gratifying moment in one's life.

And yes, Mrs. Donaldson, you were correct. Mr. Dunn is from a lower-class family in Boston. His proximity to wealth was solely due to the work his mother did in one of the homes. He was raised without the privileges you were so fortunate to have. But, he was raised some things you did not have. Compassion, concern, love. That was the wealth his mother gave to him. She did two things that you will never understand. She raised a fine son, and she put in an honest day's labour.

As for the opinion you expressed of Mr. Sanchez, I will not justify most of what you said by commenting on it. Suffice to say, he is not Godforsaken. Far from it. I would wager he stands a far better chance of passing through the pearly gates than do any of you. And I never wager if I don't expect to win.

I have learned through bitter experience, that judging a man by his appearance is a fool's game. To dismiss Mr. Tanner because of his clothing or the length of his hair, or worse, to dismiss Mr. Jackson because of the colour of his skin, is to deprive yourself of the knowledge and companionship of two of the finest men it has ever been my privilege and good fortune to know.

You sit in judgment of these men as if you had the right to do so. You don't have the right to polish their boots. But there is one fact you have correctly surmised. I do not fit in with them. The sad truth is, I truly do fit in better with you. This is where I belong. And yet, for reasons I don't think I will ever fully understand, they continually elect to challenge that idea. They have somehow got the notion in their heads that I belong with them. And while I may be a fool, I am not so foolish as to pass up the best opportunity of my life.

So, I bid you all a fond farewell. You deserve each other. Oh, and while we were on the subject of honesty and character, allow me to add that each of these men demonstrate every day more character than any of you will have in a lifetime.

One final observation, if I may, while I have left you all speechless. I can't help but have noticed a few details in my time with you that I should share. Governor, you might want to have your campaign books audited. If Colson here is any bit as incompetent with his bookkeeping as he is with his cheating at the card table, it shouldn't be too hard to find where he's been embezzling funds. And, for the record, you should know that Anders has been sleeping with your wife. Of course, that's only fair, since you have been sleeping with his. As I said, you all deserve each other." Ezra tipped his fingers to his hat in a farewell salute to the stunned ensemble. He turned, to be greeted by a broad smile on Chris's face. What he had not expected, was to see the other men standing there, similar smiles gracing their faces.

"We have Chaucer ready for you Ezra. Let's go home."

 _The end_


End file.
